


Theneras

by a_r_p



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Culavellan, Drabbles, Dreams, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Haven (Dragon Age), Multi, Other, Shorts, Slow Burn, Smut, Solavellan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 14:35:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5629948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_r_p/pseuds/a_r_p
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various drabbles to accompany my Aftermath storyline. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dreamscape

It was cold. 

The bitter chill in the air nipped at her exposed flesh. Ellana wasn’t quite aware of her surroundings, but there were towering stone walls around her, yet the ground underfoot was soft and dry. There was a soft blue haze in the air and darkness in the periphery of her vision. Her other senses were unfocussed, so she traced the moss growing up the cracks in the stone. Although she didn’t recognise where she was, she knew she was in the Emerald Graves, Dinan Hanin. 

She was dressed only in a nightshirt, thin and white, leaving her legs exposed to the fresh air. Ellana lifted a hand to her swollen belly, which now protruded out further than her breasts, and she could only just see her toes over the top of it now. Funny, she hadn’t remembered being this pregnant. She was about to make her way back when…

“Vhenan.”

That unmistakable elven accent she could never forget. 

“Solas!” 

She span around just in time to see him emerge from behind the wall, staff in hand, gazing at her with child-like innocence. 

“I thought I might find you here, you look well.”

Ellana turned back around - slowly this time - giving him a chance to see the profile of her body, the curves and contours, the unmistakable protrusion. 

“Why are you here? After all this time, don’t you think it’s a little late?” 

“It’s never too late, vhenan, you showed me that.” His head cocked to the side slightly, he hesitated before speaking again, softer this time. “You are so beautiful Inquisitor.”

“I’m not Inquisitor anymore.” 

“Even so…” Ellana could feel him approach her slowly from behind, his hot breath on her neck, the tip of his nose just touching the shell of her ear. His hands began tracing the curve of her belly, his skin warm on hers, despite the thin fabric between them. “You’re still the powerful, imposing young woman I fell in love with.” He patted her stomach as he chuckled “…although a little more imposing now I think.” 

“Solas!” She whipped around and scowled at him. It was out of character for him to be so playful and she found it unsettling, as well as slightly offensive. 

“My apologies. You are, however, more radiant than ever…” Peering down at her through long eyelashes, he took her hand and lifted it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss down on her pale knuckles. Despite her obvious condition, Ellana was thinner now, whereas Solas seemed taller and more overwhelming than she had remembered. 

“Tell me vhenan…” His face was now inches from hers, still slightly cocked to the side, and gaze flitted between her eyes and her lips. “…have you thought of any names yet?”

“No I - of course, I mean I’ve been so preoccupied with everything else.” She spluttered. 

“Well no matter, I am here now.” Solas leaned in closer, the tips of their noses touching now as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her body in closer. She closed her eyes and let her muscles melt into his embrace. The heavy hardship that had been resting on her chest for the last few months seemed to be lifted, as the warmth of his touch soothed her bones. It was more than she could have asked for to have him back with her, to support and calm her, but most importantly to love her. 

He then took his index finger and thumb, and began to press firmly either side of her spine, starting at the base of her skull and running down to her lower back. Ellana let out a hearty grown as the muscles in her posterior loosened under his fingertips. 

“How does that feel?” Solas whispered to her, chin now perched on the top of her head, with hers resting on his powerful chest. 

“Mmmm.” 

Solas chuckled, and continued: “Var da’len vhenan, he needs a name.”

“Not yet!” She groaned, seemingly rendered incapable of coherent thought. 

“Ma nuvenin.” 

Solas pulled her in tighter now, gripping the back of her neck with one hand, face pressed into her shoulder, desperation in his grip. “Ellana…” Something sounded different in his voice now. Not quite distorted, but almost unrecognisable as being his. 

“Solas?” 

Suddenly, Ellana couldn’t breathe. She felt herself slipping away despite her being held tighter and tighter. 

“Solas!” The air around her became thick and unbreathable, her vision began to blur and she could feel her head lulling back into Solas’ hand. 

She awoke finally, to find herself gasping for air under the sheets. It would seem her sleep as not as peaceful as she had thought, as there were pillows and fabric scattered everywhere. Ellana looked down to see a slight roundness to her belly, but nothing more. She realised now that it was just a dream, if he had been there with her, he wouldn’t have allowed her to awaken without saying goodbye.


	2. Wasted Potential

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas ponders what his life could have been, had he not left Skyhold.

Solas reclined where he sat, eyes closing slowly as the warmth of the sun flushed his face. Fade dreaming had been difficult since he left Skyhold as he feared to tread anywhere that reminded him of her. 

Instead, he had taken to day dreaming, letting his imagination run wild with infinite scenarios of varying intensities, often happy but sometimes venturing into the inevitable chaos. 

———————————————————————————————————————————-

He lay back on the slightly damp grass, cool on his skin, a pleasant contrast to the warm breeze. The sound of high pitched giggles filled his ears and a soft scent of lavender and elfroot floated to his nostrils.  
Ellana’s golden brown hair glistened in the rays of the sun, and her rosy cheeks were particularly glowing, a pearlescent sheen to her skin. 

“What’s wrong my love?” 

“Nothing vhenan, just admiring how beautiful you are.”

She smiled bashfully and looked down at the hem of her skirt that she had begun to fiddle with. A high pitched squeal made them both jump and turn their heads sharply as a small boy had his even smaller sister pinned to the ground. 

_“Papae, ma halani!”_

Solas had already leapt to his feet and was charging for the pair. 

“Taren!” 

“What? She hit me first! I was just joking anyway _Papae._ ”

He lifted the little girl into his arms and she buried her face into the cloth of his tunic. She had a mane of golden curls that already reached her shoulders despite her age. Her chubby fists were balled up and arms clutched around his neck. She was only three or four years old. She continued to wail into his shoulder long after he had picked her up. 

“Why would you do that to your sister?! You are supposed to love and protect her, not hurt her!”

“I’m sorry Papae… I was only joking-“ 

“It’s okay Taren.” Ellana had joined them now, taking the girl in her arms. 

“Shhh Aerin, it’s okay. No need to be so upset hmm?” 

Solas remembered that Aerin was her favourite name, he recalled a story she had told him about a girl from another clan with the same name who’d had lovely blonde hair of which she was extremely envious. He bent down on the ground so his eyes were level with the boy’s. He had chosen the name Taren, in honour of his favourite part of Ellana, her mind. 

“Violence is never the answer my son. If she hit you first, it simply means that you must teach her how to express herself through words. You’re smart enough to do that aren’t you?” 

“Yes Papae.” The boy looked down at his bare feet, a brown curl falling into his face, his pale blue eyes glistening with tears. 

“Come along now boys.” Ellana said chirpily “let’s play a nicer game now, shall we?” 

As the two of them settled back down on the grass, Ellana turned to him and spoke in a hushed tone.

“You did so well with him. He’ll be so wise like you, Solas.”

“Let’s hope he’ll be wiser than I.” 

“Yes let’s.” Her eyes turned from their usual fiery yellow-orange to a deep black “It’s a shame you’ll never know them.”

“Vhenan-?”  


The children could be heard laughing again, though now their hair was blonde and curly, and their ears rounded. 

“Why would you be so cruel?” 

“Or maybe they will know you.” She continued “maybe they’ll know you murdered their mother and betrayed their world.”

The children screamed now and fell to the ground, their bodies disappearing into the earth. 

“Children!” His voice no longer made a sound. 

“You stupid man. What makes you think you could ever have this? Did you think you even deserved it?” 

“No, vhenan…” Solas’ head fell into his hands as he wept, long fingers catching falling tears. Another voice, deeper and darker now: _“Why do you torture yourself like this, Solas? It’s already too late. She’ll never forgive you.”_

———————————————————————————————————————————

Solas snapped his eyes open. It was true, he didn’t deserve any of those things. True, she may still forgive and it may not yet be too late, but he tortured himself nevertheless. If he couldn’t go and see her, this was the only way to feel close to her. 

He wiped the cold sweat from his brow and closed his eyes again, this time determined to give himself the ending he didn’t deserve.


	3. Observations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen can't help but be distracted by the Herald, even though they had only just met.

“…There’s still a lot of work ahead.”

“Commander, Ser Rylen has a report on our supply lines.”

“As I was saying…” Cullen sauntered away, using all the willpower he could muster not to stay with her, to hear everything she had to say and more. It seemed that among the chaos, she was the only thing that was ever-present. She both excited and calmed him, made time slow down around her and quickened it, she made Cullen’s head spin and heart pound and he had no idea why. 

Perhaps it was her slim waist and perky breasts. It could have been her golden-brown hair and fiery yellow eyes with just a hint of red around the irises that gave her an effervescent glow when contrasted with her slightly tanned skin. Maybe it was the way her delicate milk-coloured vallaslin framed her face, meeting at her chin and forming a slight criss-cross at her forehead with an accent that made her look like she was always wearing a crown. 

Or, and this was the more likely explanation, it was the way she effortlessly deflected every obstacle thrown at her. It was the way she seduced the chantry despite her sacrilegious elven gods and her crass tattoos. It was the way she would have in-depth conversations with Solas about the wonders of the Fade, and the same day be slicing a man’s throat without even blinking. It was the way she walked away from him, hips gently swaying side to side, eyes gazing intently upon him for as long as possible before drawing them slowly away. 

She had captivated the minds of everyone in Haven, and they all clamoured to get a glimpse of the Herald and behold their hero in the flesh. 

But Ellana Lavellan enchanted nobody the way she enchanted the Commander. 

She could distract him from his most intense concentration. When training his recruits, he would often look around to see if she was anywhere to be seen. He always listened whenever anyone spoke of her. His mind drifted to dark thoughts of them together, intimately, in various situations. On a particularly bad day, he envisioned her returning in the arms of Cassandra, blood-soaked amour clinging to her skin, scratches across her face and a gaping wound in her side. Those thoughts made his heart pound with fear, so much so that he had to take a walk alone to regain his breath. 

One evening, word had reached Cullen that the Herald would be returning from the Fallow Mire the following morning. It was a relief to hear that Inquisition soldiers were alive and well, but even more so that the Herald was safe and unharmed. He retired early, eager to greet her the moment she arrived the next day. 

As he let his head hit the pillow, Cullen agreed to allow himself a couple of hours alone, to process his thoughts. Before his mind could reach his troops, she was there already. The Herald lay next to him in his single bed, the smell of lavender and blood in her hair. Now that he could picture her face up close, she couldn’t be more than twenty-two. Her complexion was near flawless, save for a smattering of freckles across her face, and a scar under her jawline that few others noticed. It looked as though someone had been aiming for her throat, but she had managed to dodge away just in time, save for the blade just piercing the skin under her chin. 

The curvature of her frame was unlike many of the other women in the Inquisition. It was not heavy-set or shapely like Cassandra’s, or boyish like Leliana’s, it was thinner somehow yet still nipped in at the waist, with a little flair at the hips. Cullen had seen plenty of pretty elves before, mostly City elves, but none so exotic and intriguing as Ellana. Cullen knew that part of her appeal must have come from the taboo of being Dalish, despite having no prejudices against elves himself. He imagined what it would feel like to kiss her, her lips unusually plump given her delicate features. He wondered if it would feel any different where her tattoo is? 

He imagined her slender hands forming fists in his hair, playfully tugging as he kissed her deeper, tongues intertwining. He wanted to feel her thighs wrapped around his waist, squeezing and drawing him in closer. Without realising, he was now grinding his hips into the bed. 

_“Mmmm Commander…”_ he could hear her purr between kisses. 

_“You don’t have to call me Commander you know.”_

_“Maybe I like calling you Commander…”_ He could picture her breathless now as he kissed her neck and down to her collarbone, hands running up and down her back, now bare. 

_“…my Commander.”_

He thought of her smooth, soft skin under his sword-calloused fingers, breasts now exposed and pushing against his bare chest. He imagined how it would feel to be inside her, if the mark on her hand made any difference. 

Cullen now had his head buried firmly in the pillow, fists clutching at the thin mattress. He managed to stop himself before things got out of hand, and he sat up, drawing deep breaths attempting to regain some control of himself. She would be back tomorrow, he would tell her his feelings then.


	4. A Sense of Urgency

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just had to get this off my chest...

Foreheads touching, bare back pressed against the wall, flushed skin warming the paint and plaster.

Hushed whispers in the adjacent room, footsteps scuffling along corridors. 

Panting, thrusting, a slick layer of sweat and lust between skin. 

Nails digging into the back of his neck, needing, wanting. 

Face contorted in delicious agony, breath quickening and catching in her throat. 

Legs intertwined, bodies a tangled mess.

Climbing, reaching, higher and higher…

Explosions of colour and fire, sensations burning brighter than lightning. 

Release, finally, breathing slows and surroundings come back into focus. 

Leaning on each other for support, savouring every moment like it’s their last.

And maybe it is.


End file.
